


You Are a Quiet Conversation

by haruchicken



Category: Temeraire - Naomi Novik
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-03
Updated: 2015-06-03
Packaged: 2018-04-02 15:26:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4064956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haruchicken/pseuds/haruchicken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My entry for the 2015 fanfic exchange. I used both prompts, one a beach story the other was a freeform.</p><p>Story 1: Laurence sits on the beach watching his crew enjoy themselves off in the surf. As always he needs Tharkay to put his concerns aside and appreciate the moment.</p><p>Story 2: Caesar has sought Rankin’s help with a personal project.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. You Are the Voice Over the Ocean

**Author's Note:**

  * For [annicron](https://archiveofourown.org/users/annicron/gifts).



> I had a lot of trouble getting in the writing zone and I wrote a lot on another story entirely until I realized I hated it and scraped it. I think these two short stories turned out better and ended up fulfilling the original prompts. Thank you to temeraire-exchange on tumblr for setting this up, and editing my work!

Laurence looked out at Temeraire far off in the waves. The dragon was swimming far out with his head diving beneath the waves, looking for fish. Every now and again Iskierka would try it herself from her much shallower position in the water, but every time came up empty-handed and shaking water from her gaping mouth, cursing the salty taste. 

Further inshore the crew was running through ankle-deep water, apparently trying desperately to knock each other off-balance and into the ocean face first. Forthing had, in fact, been tugged by Ferris into the water, ending with both men in heap after he’d managed to trip the other man over. Granby was trying to get them all to behave, but was having a rather difficult time of it. Everyone was just too happy to finally be out of the desert to be at all restrained. 

Even Rankin was knee-deep in the surf, standing by Caesar’s shoulder as the young dragon drew his tail through the water, amazed by the sound it made. Kulingile was lying in the sand dozing, not even disturbed when the waves lapped every so often at his side. Demane was sitting on top of him, talking to Roland. Laurence could hear their laughter from his position on the beach. 

“Not enjoying yourself?” Came a voice from behind him. Laurence wasn’t surprised when Tharkay came and sat next to him in the sand, under the shade of a tree. 

Laurence let out a sigh. “I’m not unhappy, but there is a slight uneasiness in my chest.” 

Tharkay gave a quiet snort, patting him on the shoulder. “You always worry so. I’m surprised your hair hasn’t turned white from all the fretting you do.” 

“It’s not as if I have no reason to worry. Nothing ever seems to go well for very long.” Laurence replied, looked back out at Temeraire, who was now bickering with Iskierka over something. “Surely something will go wrong soon enough.”

Tharkay laughed. It was, perhaps, to cheer him, but to Laurence’s ear it sounded somewhat forced. “I’ve no doubt something will go astray. No job stays simple for long when I travel with you.” 

“That is far from reassuring.” Laurence deadpanned, at once tired from the long and difficult journey they’d had getting to the coast. Tharkay patted his shoulder again, a bit harder, a bright smile on his face.

“Is it not?” Laurence looked at him, eyes slightly narrowed in confusion, and Tharkay let out a another short laugh, leaning back on his hands. “If you’re sure something will go wrong, and everything will be upended, forcing you to endure countless hardships, then why must you worry about them before they even happen? It will only darken the few moments you have that could, if you let them, brighten your day.”

Laurence felt his face go slack. Tharkay, as always, made an excellent point, and although he would have liked to argue, there was very little he could find to say in response. They sat in companionable silence for a few moments before a commotion from the rest of the aviators drew their attention. 

Out in the shallows Rankin had grabbed Blincoln, pushing him down in the surf. It seemed Blincoln had done something to anger him, and for once Rankin was not afraid to act in an ungentlemanly manner, for he was shoving a fist full of wet sand down the other man’s breeches. Laurence couldn’t help but smile a bit at the scene, especially when Rankin stood, and walked back toward Caesar with the same air of dignity he always possessed, as if he hadn’t been reduced to acting like a child.

“You know, Laurence, it’s alright to be happy.” Laurence turned back toward Tharkay. The man’s voice was quiet and far away, and he gazed out over the water without seeming to truly see it. “Even if it’s only for a short time.” 

Laurence felt the other man’s hand brush against his own. The sand was rough against their skin, but Laurence didn’t pull away, enjoying the slight contact. His smile grew a bit wider, his chest all the lighter, as he put his active mind to rest for the moment. He looked back out over the ocean, eyes brushing over the company as he enjoyed the calm. 

Temeraire was splashing water over Iskierka as she fumed, sending up clouds of steam. The other aviators had decided to gang up on Granby, who was trying desperately to escape, tripping over himself in the wet sand. Kulingile had shifted in his sleep, sending Demane sliding off his back. Roland had stayed firmly in place, much to the boy’s embarrassment. Caesar was now slapping the water’s surface with his tail and seemed to like that sound even more, much to Rankin’s evident– and vocal– dismay. 

Laurence laced his fingers with Tharkay’s, holding them a bit tighter, despite the coarse sand making the action almost painful. He wanted to be happy, even if was just for this moment.


	2. You Are the Words I Write

“Must you, Caesar?” Rankin asked the dragon, who was trying to walk on his back legs as a human might. It was actually rather off-putting to watch, because he wasn’t all that bad at it.

“I think it will be a fine addition to my play.” Caesar explained haughtily, holding out one his very dexterous front claws as if he was holding something. “It will make the second scene all the more grand, don’t you think?”

“I don’t particularly see why you have decided to write a play at all.” Rankin replied from his seat on a flat rock some distance away, flipping through the manuscript Caesar had insisted he transcribe, trying to read through it in the waning light. 

“You couldn’t find me a play where the main character was a dragon, so I figured I had better write one myself.” To Rankin’s relief Caesar got back down on all fours and walked a bit closer to him. “In fact, you could not find me a play that had any sort of part in it for a dragon. The human to dragon ratio in theater seems very off.”

“They were written by humans, for humans.” Rankin said with a sigh, as he read over the first few pages for mistakes. It really wasn’t such a bad story, really, and the characters weren’t unappealing. It was, however, perhaps a bit too dramatic even for the stage.

“Well I am dragon writing for both human and dragon alike. A much more accurate representation of the masses, if I do say so myself.” Caesar told him in a rather haughty tone, the tip of his tail swishing back and forth in the air. 

“I can hardly argue that fact, given how many dragons I’ve worked alongside over the years, and how scarce they seem to be in literature, but I must ask– how are you planning to fill all the draconic parts you have created? We are in rather short supply of draconic actors here in the colony.” Caesar seemed to pause at that, swiveling his head around as if he would spot some dragon he hadn’t noticed before lying around the covert.

“That does pose a problem now, doesn’t it?” Caesar asked idly, not truly addressing Rankin, nor expecting an answer. He walked in a small circle for a few minutes, as he did when he was searching for a thought to solve his problem. He stopped abruptly, looking over his shoulder at Rankin. “Do you suppose Temeraire and Kulingile will be coming back any time soon? Not that they would be my first choice of actors, but one has to work with what one has.” 

Rankin shook his head with a grin. “No, I don’t think we will be graced by their presence at any time in the near future.” He didn’t add that he doubted Temeraire would participate even if he did come back to New South Wales, and he probably wouldn’t allow Kulingile to perform in it either. Not that he particularly thought it was a good idea to have a more than fifty ton beast, who was not the most graceful among his kind, acting out dramatic roles in a play.

“Will they send us any other dragons?” Caesar asked, eyes aglow with thought– and perhaps hope. Rankin let out another breath, shaking his head again.

“I doubt our small colony is at the top of the list for places to send dragon eggs. Nor do I think our country can spare a dragon transport at the moment to send us unharnessed or retired ones. You and that Tharunka are the only two dragons on the entire continent.” It didn’t make Rankin at all pleased to dash Caesar’s hopes, but lying wasn’t an option, when Caesar would have found out the truth eventually.

“Then I suppose I shall have to change some of the dragon characters into humans.” The dragon said rather plainly, though there was a tinge of disappointment in his words. He turned back to Rankin and sat down in front of him, craning his neck down to look at the papers in his hand. “I suppose I will have to try to convince Tharunka to portray the love interest. She will not want to, but perhaps if I offer to perform it for her people as well she will agree. How many rewrites do you think we will need?”

“Quite a few, given most of the cast was draconic, and cannot simply have their species changed without glaring inaccuracies.” Rankin didn’t bother telling Caesar the yellow reaper would refuse to be a part of his endeavor, and even if she did join they would have a very difficult time getting permission to put on a play for the natives. They would likely not even get permission to put on a play with dragons in it at all, but Rankin wasn’t quite willing to crush Caesar’s hopes before they were even done writing it. 

“It is a pity we differ so much. If we did not it would make our work all the easier.” Caesar yawned, putting his head down on top of his crossed legs. “We’ll have to start work early tomorrow, if we wish to get all the rewrites done before noon.”

“Why before noon?” 

Caesar opened one eye, already dropping off to sleep. “So we can hold auditions, of course.”

“Of course.” Rankin agreed with a sigh. He was going to have to pull some of the crew aside and instruct them to listen to Caesar and not unintentionally insult his work. As much as he hated being called a fool, he’d rather have the word tossed at his already ruined reputation than used to hurt Caesar’s pride. It was strange wanting to protect a creature who far outmatched you in almost every respect.

Carefully he folded the manuscript, and placed it in his bag, before standing and stretching his stiff back. He ran a hand over the smooth scales on the very top of Caesar’s head, the dragon already starting to drowse. With a light smile he pulled away. 

“Goodnight, Caesar.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked the stories. They were fun to write once I got into the zone. I might add other short stories to this if I have an idea or time. They make a fun little collection.


End file.
